


pretty please

by denkis



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blow Jobs, Locker Room Sex, M/M, Power Bottom Kozume Kenma, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, This is pure smut I'm so sorry, Top Akaashi Keiji, akaken, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:07:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27887269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/denkis/pseuds/denkis
Summary: Akaashi’s third year of volleyball is different without Bokuto.It's the first time he can see the way Kenma looks at him from across the court and actually act on it.----or; kenma and akaashi have sex in the changing rooms. that's literally it.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Kozume Kenma
Comments: 2
Kudos: 139





	pretty please

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY AKAASHI DAY!!! may he finally get some rest <3 and perhaps a promotion to the literature department.
> 
> there's nowhere near enough akaken fics on here and it is my own personal agenda to change that
> 
> akaashi's my favourite character but i've somehow never written him ?? so here it is. 
> 
> title from pretty please by dua lipa. she literally wrote that song thinking about akaken

Akaashi’s third year of volleyball is different without Bokuto. He knew it would be, so he isn’t surprised, but it’s still a large adjustment to his usual routine.

As the new captain, he takes it upon himself to organise as many practice matches against other teams as possible. Naturally, one of the first teams to come to mind is Nekoma, which is easily agreed to by both teams.

The match itself is long and full of complicated plays and trying to trick each other, even though the year has only just begun. It’s the first time Akaashi feels like he’s properly fit into his role as the new captain; the first time he feels like he is a suitable follow-up to Bokuto’s lead.

It’s also the first time he’s ever been able to speak to Nekoma’s setter, Kenma, without the loud presence of Kuroo nearby. Furthermore, it’s the only time he’s ever been able to notice the way Kenma looks at him through the net, and actually act on it.

Akaashi’s the last one to leave the gym, taking a little longer than necessary to thank Nekomata for the match and agree to rearrange another training camp. There are only a few members of both teams left getting dressed when Akaashi returns to the clubroom, so he takes a shower until he finally hears the clubroom door slam closed.

When he steps out of the shower, he wraps a towel around his waist and grabs his bundled-up uniform and walks to where he’s left his bag. He smirks at the figure in the corner of the room.

It’s Kenma, sat on the other side of the room, pretending to be fully engrossed in his phone. Akaashi can tell from the way Kenma hasn’t touched the screen since he entered the room that he’s a little preoccupied.

“Kozume-san,” Akaashi begins, watching from the corner of his eye as Kenma lifts his head a little in surprise. “Should I get dressed?”

There’s a small gasp and when Akaashi turns to see Kenma’s reaction, he’s instead surprised to see that he’s crossed the small distance and is standing only a few feet away.

“You should call me Kenma.” He says, and then takes the remaining few steps and pulls Akaashi into a kiss.

It starts off slow, both of them a little unsure and unwilling to push boundaries, until Kenma quietly breathes a “fuck it” into the tiny space of air between their lips and pushes him onto the wooden bench behind him. Akaashi’s head smacks into the wall behind him but he’s so distracted by Kenma’s thighs coming up to straddle him that he only feels a dull pain.

The kiss grows heated and Akaashi puts his hands on either side of Kenma’s slim waist, grabbing and pulling him impossibly closer. Kenma’s hands find their way into his hair, tugging lightly at the strands until Akaashi opens his mouth. From then it’s a mess of tongues and spit, with Kenma grinding into Akaashi’s lap at an increasingly desperate pace.

Kenma suddenly pulls back, gasping for air.

“Keiji, can I…” he trails off, but he crawls off Akaashi’s lap and onto the floor in front of him, staring intently at the tent in the towel.

“Please.” Akaashi replies.

Kenma lifts a hand to push at the edge of the towel, keeping it wrapped around Akaashi’s waist but letting it fall to either side of his thighs. Akaashi feels a little exposed, considering Kenma’s still in his Nekoma sweatpants and a white t-shirt, but he doesn’t complain when he feels warm breath against his hard cock.

A few moments pass and Akaashi feels himself growing a little impatient.

“Why’re you hesitating now, Kenma-san?” Akaashi looks down at the boy between his legs and watches as his eyes snap up to meet his. “From the way you’ve been looking at me on the court for the last year, I thought you wanted this pretty badly.” He slides a hand into Kenma’s hair, not missing the way the boy subconsciously leans into his touch. “Of course, it’s okay if you don’t want to. We can stop whenever-”

He’s cut off by Kenma leaning forward and giving the head of his cock a tiny kitten lick. He looks up for encouragement and is met with a small groan from Akaashi at the sudden contact. This spurs him on, and soon Kenma’s taken the entire head of Akaashi’s cock into his mouth. The warm heat of his mouth makes Akaashi tighten the hand he has in Kenma’s hair.

This, combined with the stretch of his mouth around Akaashi’s cock, makes Kenma elicit the neediest whine Akaashi thinks he’s ever heard. He tugs on his hair again and is rewarded with the same whine. He can tell Kenma’s getting impatient around his cock, taking him deeper into his mouth until he hits the back of his throat and then pulling all the way off again. He gets faster and faster, until Akaashi’s thighs are starting to shake against the bench and he has to pull at Kenma’s hair to make him stop.

Kenma looks at him, watery-eyed and gasping for breath.

“Sorry. I- I don’t want to come yet.” Akaashi says, watching as Kenma’s face flushes red.

Akaashi leans forward and pulls Kenma up by his hands so he’s standing, and then he sinks down onto his knees. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of Kenma’s red sweatpants, looking up in question. When Kenma nods, he pulls down on them slowly, revealing a soft trim of black lace where Akaashi had expected there to be boxers. He feels his face heat up as he runs his finger along the delicate fabric.

“For me?” he asks. Kenma’s looking away, face hidden.

“Not really.” Kenma replies quietly. “I like how it feels.” And fuck, if that isn’t the hottest thing Akaashi’s ever heard. He makes quick work of pushing the sweatpants the rest of the way down before reaching up to feel the underwear.

It’s just simple, black underwear but it’s made up of entirely lace. That paired with Kenma standing in his slightly oversized t-shirt is something Akaashi will be seeing in his dreams for weeks. He stops himself from reaching forward to grab at the bulge in the front of the underwear, instead opting to tease a little and feel at his ass. He turns Kenma around so he can have full access, grabbing at both cheeks and squeezing. Kenma whines at the contact, stretching a hand down to touch himself.

“No touching.” Akaashi says. A tiny whine escapes Kenma as he complies, instead fisting a hand into the front of his shirt.

Akaashi strokes the fabric of the underwear before pulling down the back, exposing Kenma’s ass. “I’m gonna eat you out. That okay?” He asks.

Kenma nods in response, but he’s looking away and Akaashi isn’t having any of it. He pulls at Kenma’s thighs, turning him around so they’re facing each other.

The head of Kenma’s cock is pushing over the edge of the underwear, still holding up at the front despite it being pulled down at the back. Akaashi’s mouth waters from being so close, but he stops himself to look up at Kenma’s face.

He’s red, his hands quivering in their hold on his t-shirt.

“Could you use words for me?” Akaashi asks, pressing a light kiss to Kenma’s thigh.

Kenma glares at him through the hair that has escaped being tucked behind his ears.

“I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t ask me to.”

“F-fuck, Keiji. Please.” Kenma replies, voice still hoarse. Akaashi presses another kiss to his thigh before letting him turn back around.

He pulls apart Kenma’s cheeks, groaning at the sight of his hole. Kenma gasps at the sudden exposure, and then chokes when Akaashi circles the rim with his tongue. It’s a weird sensation, one Kenma’s never experienced before, and he never thought he would be into it. But, here he is knees threatening to give out as he leans into the wall in front of him, crying out as Akaashi’s tongue delves inside him.

Akaashi’s never seen Kenma lose his composure quite like this. His entire face is flushed, with soft whines and incoherent mumbles escaping his mouth. He’s a wreck, and it’s beautiful.

“Could you come like this? Without being touched?” Akaashi asks, following up his question by licking a stripe across his entrance.

Kenma gasps in response, and then shakes his head. “N-no. Want you inside.”

Akaashi has to squeeze the base of his own dick at that, suppressing a groan. He had a feeling Kenma would be blunt during sex too, but he was not prepared for how much that would affect him.

He’d love to. There’s genuinely nothing Akaashi would love more than to fuck Kenma into next week right now. But, because the universe hates him:

“We have no lube. Maybe next time.”

Kenma reaches down behind him to put his hand in Akaashi’s hair. First, he just threads his hand through, moaning as Akaashi takes it as encouragement to push as deep into Kenma’s hole as possible. But then, he pulls lightly on the strands to stop him and step away a little. Akaashi looks at him, confused, until Kenma takes off his underwear and then walks across the small clubroom to where he’d left his backpack earlier. After a small search, Kenma makes a tiny satisfied noise and returns with a bottle of lube that he places directly into Akaashi’s palm, where he’s still kneeling on the floor.

“There you go.”

It’s cherry scented, which, okay, and also a complete surprise.

“Kenma… did you plan for this to happen?”

“…had a feeling.”

Akaashi smirks. “You wanted my cock that bad?”

A whine works its way out of Kenma’s throat. “K-Keiji. Please.”

“Sit on the bench.”

He complies, and Akaashi sits between his legs, hoisting Kenma’s thighs up over his shoulders. When he opens the bottle to squeeze it onto his palm, he notes that it’s already halfway empty.

“Do you finger yourself, Kenma?”

Kenma’s breath hitches. He nods shyly, his hair falling in front of his face. Akaashi coats his fingers in lube as he comes face to face with Kenma’s entrance again.

“What do you think about when you finger yourself?”

He gets no answer, just short gasps as Akaashi circles the rim of his hole with his finger. He gets closer and closer to pushing in but stops short until Kenma can’t take it anymore.

“Y-you. It’s always you. I pretend that it’s your fingers instead of mine. That it’s you s-sucking my cock and fucking me.”

Akaashi’s mouth goes dry at his words. He pushes his finger past the ring of muscle, starting slow. “Like this?”

“Fuck, yes, Keiji-” which is all the encouragement he needs to speed up. When Kenma’s thighs start to shake and wrap around the back of his neck, he adds a second finger.

It takes only one more finger for Kenma to let out a loud whine and grasp at Akaashi’s hair, begging for more.

Kenma sits up the best he can, moving his legs back to the floor so that he can reach for the lube. He pours it into his hand and then wraps it around Akaashi’s cock, giving it a few quick strokes to coat it. Akaashi can’t help the moan that bubbles out of his throat, quickly turning into a growl as he flips Kenma over and bends him against the bench, so his hands are pressed to the wall.

“You okay?” he asks, restraining himself for a moment.

Kenma turns his head, scowling. “I swear to fuck, please just fuck me, Keiji.”

It doesn’t take any more convincing than that for Akaashi to spread Kenma’s ass cheeks apart and push into him. He goes slow until he’s all the way in, waiting as they both catch their breath before he dares to continue. Kenma nods with a shaky breath and Akaashi starts to push in and out.

It doesn’t take long for Kenma to be a writhing mess against the wall, pushing back to meet Akaashi halfway on every thrust.

Akaashi tightens his grip around Kenma's waist, bunching the t-shirt up and sliding one hand up his chest to run over his nipples.

“Fuck, Keiji!” Kenma cries, arching his back and scratching his nails against the wall. His entire body is shaking, and a few stray tears have made their way down his face. He can tell the moment he reaches Kenma’s prostate, as he all but collapses against the bench, arms trembling.

“Kenma-” Akaashi moans, feeling himself get closer and closer to the edge.

Kenma’s entire body jolts when he comes, and Akaashi finally reaches a hand over to touch his neglected cock, stroking him through his orgasm. When he feels the last few spurts of cum in his palm, he pulls out and carries on stroking himself.

“W-wanna-” Kenma begins, turning himself over and catching his breath. “Wanna come on my face?”

Kenma slides off the bench, ending up in a boneless heap in front of Akaashi as he jerks off. With Kenma’s flushed face and teary eyes looking up at him, it doesn’t take long until Akaashi feels his orgasm approaching at a rapid pace.

Akaashi puts one hand in Kenma’s hair, pulling it out of his face the best he can.

“K-Kenma, I-” is all he can manage to get out, because Kenma opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue and then suddenly his pretty face is decorated with white streaks of cum and Akaashi doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything as beautiful in his entire life. Kenma swallows what he can and Akaashi kneels down in front of him, unable to resist anymore. He leans forward to kiss Kenma, intending to be somewhat gentle but instead resuming the same heated kisses from before.

As the mood dies down a little, it feels like the temperature drops and they both suddenly have become a little _too_ aware that they’re naked in a sweaty clubroom.

Akaashi breaks away from the kiss, grabbing the towel from behind him to wipe at Kenma’s face. There’s a moment where they both kind of just stare at each other, but it isn’t awkward like Akaashi had expected it to be. It’s a comfortable silence, and Kenma offers him a tiny smile that floods his chest with warmth.

They shower together after, and for two boys with that much previous sexual tension, it’s pretty tame. They help to clean each other up, and then start to get changed next to each other in the clubroom.

Kenma reaches down to grab the lacy underwear he’d dropped earlier, but Akaashi beats him to it.

“Keiji?”

“Nope.” Akaashi replies, shoving the underwear into his backpack. “You can have it back next time.”

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaand there it is. my first smut! I'm sorry if it was literally the worst thing you've ever read, this was so out of my comfort zone but also kind easier than trying to consistently write humour.
> 
> I was gonna make this cute and fluffy, but lbr neither kenma nor akaashi are cute and fluffy, and extra context is for the weak. let them just want to have sex with no further explanations pls
> 
> thanks to my favourite femboy fucker for being with me for this painful experience. I'm glad u got to bear witness to my pained looks over FaceTime
> 
> as per, kudos and comments are ALWAYS appreciated!!<3
> 
> also pls use protection x


End file.
